


All the Madness Going On

by szucsf



Series: Your New Truth [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accountant Castiel (Supernatural), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Santa Clarita Diet (TV) Fusion, Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Canon-Typical Violence, Castiel/Dean Winchester-centric, Dean Winchester is So Whipped, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, Family Feels, Federal Bureau of Investigation, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Good Parent John Winchester, Healthy Relationships, Hunters & Hunting, Jack Kline and Claire Novak are Siblings, Light Angst, Loving Marriage, M/M, Married Castiel/Dean Winchester, Married Couple, Married Life, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Men of Letters (Supernatural), Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Dean Winchester, Smut, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Trust, Wing Kink, Wings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:34:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29545227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/szucsf/pseuds/szucsf
Summary: Dean was just getting used to his husband being an angel. It was pretty cool, actually, had made life easier a couple times already. Then the troubles kept coming: a secret organization popping up way too close to home, the damn FBI working on the case of Cas’ first (and hopefully only) victim of angelic rage and Claire bringing over her first girlfriend. God, why couldn’t he just get a damn break? At least there was nothing going on with Jack or Sam.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dorothy Baum/Charlie Bradbury
Series: Your New Truth [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2128179
Comments: 7
Kudos: 14





	1. Storm Clouds Gathering

**Author's Note:**

> Hi again! If you liked Some Form of Normalcy enough to continue with this one, I hope you’ll enjoy it, too. I can’t promise regular updates, but I’ll upload new chapters as soon as they’re written. Happy reading!

“Would you tell him to stop?” Claire stormed into the living room, her blonde waves almost flying behind her.

Dean looked back at his magazine, crossing his ankles the other way. God, this couch was comfortable.

“You would do the same if you could,” he said.

“But this is getting ridiculous!” his daughter exclaimed and threw herself down next to him on the couch, arms crossed petulantly, looking like the definition of a sulky teen.

“I know, sweetheart, but let him enjoy it. It’ll wear off soon,” he sighed. “Plus, we’ll never have to get on an airplane again. Like, ever.”

“Wow, the priorities!” she mocked him. Dean shot her a look that made her back off a little. “I’m happy for him, really, it’s awesome that he can just _do_ that, but –”

“It’s weird,” Dean finished the sentence, putting the magazine aside and turning towards her. “I get it. But it’s not the only weird thing about this. We have to accept this as the new norm because we can’t make it go away either way.” A small smile tugged at his lips. “I haven’t seen him this invested in something in a long time. And if it makes him happy, I can’t tell him that he has to stop.”

Claire bit her lip but then nodded reluctantly.

“Jack thinks it’s cool,” she muttered.

“It’s Jack,” Dean chuckled. “And it’s kinda cool.”

“Yeah, it is,” she admitted.

It had been a week since Dean and Cas had come home from Bobby and their brief visit at Lily Sunder’s house.

Sam had taken the news like the excited puppy he was, bombarding them with questions and actually taking notes, the nerd. The week had been littered with random phone calls from him every time he had another question, even if they hadn’t known the answer. Dean hadn’t been nice when his cell had started ringing at two a.m. but fortunately Cas had taken it from him before he could’ve said something really insulting. (Bobby probably hadn’t fared better, as he was the expert in the family and a mostly retired hunter of the supernatural on the side.)

Claire and Jack had been another matter. The boy’s main problem had been if now Cas had to leave them for Heaven. but he’d been ready to roll with everything with a smile after they explained that nobody was going anywhere. Claire had taken everything in stride (her only reaction to Cas’ wings were “This is so cool and gay at the same time!”) and instantly declared war on anyone who wanted to hurt her father. Dean really hoped she wasn’t gonna run into a random Man of Letters on the street because beating up someone without seemingly good reason wouldn’t go down well.

It seemed like her insecurities were coming out now in the form of anger.

“How’s Kaia?” Dean asked to change topic.

Claire’s clear blue eyes narrowed at him in the way she’d picked up from Cas years ago but Dean saw how her cheeks went a little pink. Even if she tried to be so confident and nonchalant all the time, he still found her adorable.

“She’s fine,” she glowered, ‘fuck off’ written all over her face.

“That’s great,” Dean grinned at her.

“Whatever,” she huffed and pushed herself up from the sofa.

“Put together your laundry!” Dean shouted after her, getting only some incomprehensible grumbling back. He was pretty sure there were a couple swear words in there but he couldn’t hear it clearly so he didn’t concern himself with it.

He went back to his article and just relaxed for once.

He felt way better than a week ago. Being home and getting back into his daily routine had helped a lot in dealing with the changes in their lives. It also helped that Cas had learned a trick where he could just sedate someone with a touch. Besides flying, discovering new ways to use his grace was what occupied him the most. Now that he was not sleeping at all, he used the nightly hours to learn control over his new powers – they couldn’t really allow themselves another Dick-incident.

The ringing of the timer ended Dean’s reading and he walked into the kitchen to pull the pie out of the oven.

He was just checking it over when he heard the already familiar fluttering sound behind his back.

“You should walk sometimes or you’ll get fat,” he quipped as he turned around. Cas rewarded him with a withering look. His wings twitched then disappeared. The air only moved slightly at that.

“I’m still running every other day, if you remember,” he leaned against the counter. He held up the file Dean had left at the garage with a bitch face. “It was in the third drawer, not on your desk.”

“Thanks, babe,” Dean pulled off his mittens and took it from him, kissing his cheek in consolation. “What’s Claire upset at you about?”

Cas tipped his head back and sighed.

“She texted me. I just wanted to answer personally.”

“And flap around a bit, I guess?” Dean teased him.

“I’ll stop it,” his husband said, shoulders slumping in defeat as he looked out the window at the backyard.

“Hey, no, not what I was getting at,” Dean crooked a finger under his chin to turn his head in for a sweet kiss. “If you like it, do it. Not gonna take fucking _flying_ away from you, Cas.”

“But Claire –”

“Already talked to her. It’s fine. I think she just wanted to bitch about something.” He smiled a bit. “Keep the usual boundaries, don’t let anyone see you and we’ll be okay.” His husband still seemed unsure, biting at his lower lip. “Those wings are now a part of you. No need to hide them from us. Besides,” he smirked, and trailed his hand over Cas’ waist, “I’m quite fond of them.”

The way Cas’ trembled just from the lightest touch on the inside of his wings had been like a revelation to Dean. Also had been getting fucked against nothing, trusting Cas to hold him in thin air. God, his husband was so _strong_ … Dean’s kink list had grown with at least a dozen brand new things.

“What’s the pie for?” Cas looked over his shoulder.

“Oh, yeah. You remember Charlie?”

“Who just moved in across from us with her girlfriend, yes,” Cas nodded. He hadn’t met either of them yet.

“So yesterday you were pretty good at dinner. Almost thought you enjoyed eating. And we have a dinner invitation so I’m gonna cash that in to not be a douche.”

“You sure I can do it?” Cas frowned.

“I have faith in you,” Dean winked and Cas cracked a smile at the pun.

It took five minutes for Dean to wrap up the pie and walk over to the house with the little yellow car on its driveway. Cas stayed at home to start laundry and ironing because it was his turn and he hadn’t learned how to get out of that yet with a snap of his fingers.

Charlie opened the door soon and a bright smile graced her face.

“Dean, hi!” she greeted him.

“I come with a piece offering,” he lifted the pie. “I should have made it to your welcome party so I’m making up for it.”

“Thanks!” Charlie took it from him. “Jesus, it smells amazing!” Her gaze became more piercing as she looked him over. “You look better.”

“Yeah, I’m good,” he grinned honestly. “So you’ve said something about a no-hetero dinner?”

“Right, what about tomorrow?” she asked and her excitement reminded Dean of Jack. “Here around seven?”

“Yeah, we can make it. Should we bring something?”

“Beer, if you have it. I’m not one for wine and you don’t look like it either.”

“Yeah, I’m not. Beer it is.”

So the next day at seven p.m. he and Cas found themselves ushered inside by Charlie who, after Dean had introduced them, declared both of them her new best friends. Cas seemed immediately charmed by her, too.

“Dorothy will be home soon,” she smiled at them, leading them into the kitchen. “She’s got held up at work.”

The house was similarly built than their own, but looked nothing alike on the inside. There were bright colors and the equipment of a practicing nerd all over the place, some of them still in boxes: movie posters, video games, a silicon sword and carefully placed relics from different fandoms. Dean’s favorite was the Hermione figurine he spotted on a bookshelf (full of fantasy and sci-fi books).

“You’re our kind of person,” he grinned at her.

“Nerds yourselves, then?” she asked as she put the six-pack on the kitchen island. “Already my favorite people around here.”

“You should meet my brother,” Dean shook his head in amusement. “He’s way nerdier than me.”

“Liar,” Cas muttered, making Charlie giggle.

The lasagna was still in the oven but the table was already set. They waited by talking about everything that came to mind and after three minutes got stuck on Star Wars.

“Han Solo was my bi-awakening,” Dean told her enthusiastically. “Cas’ was Sean Connery as James Bond.”

“My type is handsome and impulsive,” his husband smiled at him from over his beer.

Charlie laughed.

The front door opened and after a couple seconds a brown-haired woman came into their view, brown leather-jacket worn over a white blouse and jeans.

“Hey, nerd,” she greeted Charlie with a smile and a kiss.

“Hey, yourself,” Charlie gave her a fond look. “These are Dean and Cas. Guys, Dorothy.”

“Nice to meet you,” they shook hands and passed Dorothy a beer.

“You’re the dude who made that amazing pie,” she pointed with it at Dean.

That was when he saw it. Hanging at Dorothy’s hip there was an old-looking leather shoulder bag, the kind Dean had last seen in Indiana Jones. That was not the problem, it looked cool. No, what made his blood run cold was the symbol edged into it over the clasp, not enormous but clearly visible: the Aquarian Star.

Fuck, Dorothy was a Man (or Woman?) of Letters, part of the organization that hunted Cas’ kind. This went from great to shit real fast. He’d brought Cas straight into their lair – or something like that.

He took a deep breath to make the sudden panic building in him go away.

“Yep, that’s me,” he gave her a big, forced smile.

They couldn’t just run. There wouldn’t be time to grab the kids, pile into the Impala and just vanish. No, it would only put a target on their back. But they couldn’t stay here either, because they sure had something they could use to take Cas away and –

He felt a hand on his forearm, a thumb sliding over his wrist in a calming gesture. So Cas had spotted it, too.

If either of the women noticed anything, they hadn’t mentioned it.

Dorothy shrugged off her bag and jacket while Charlie put their dinner on the table. Dean looked at Cas helplessly but his husband gave him a sharp glance and nudged him towards the chairs. The only thing that betrayed his awareness was the slight tension in his shoulders. He’d always been better at hiding his emotions than Dean.

“So,” Cas asked as he sat down. “What brought you here to Santa Clarita?”

It turned into a kind of small talk they’d had countless of times with new people. Now Dean couldn’t really relax into it because every question in their direction sounded like he was sitting in an interrogation where every word could be the end of them and he was freaking the fuck out. The only reason he hadn’t made an excuse to get out of here was Cas’ steady presence at his side, his knee pressing into Dean’s thigh reassuringly. He couldn’t even enjoy the meal properly, but Cas was pretty good at pretending he did.

The information they got was that Charlie and Dorothy moved here because Dorothy had gotten a promotion (her job was something obscure where she had to travel around the state a lot) and Charlie could work from anywhere because she created and worked on apps and if she got her computer she was unbeatable. Dean translated that into Dorothy’s new mission or case or something was her hunting down angels and that Charlie was probably a part-time hacker at least.

“I heard you two have children?” Dorothy asked between two bites.

Dean almost choked on the lasagna. His kids? Hell, no!

“Yes, Jack and Claire,” Cas kicked him under the table, his smile that of a proud dad. “They’re wonderful. Right, Dean?”

“What? Yeah,” he nodded along. Neither of them shared more about it than that.

There were questions about the neighborhood and the residents, too, which wouldn’t have been totally out of place normally but Dean now took them as getting info out of them. It was highly disconcerting, because he would probably like both of them and he didn’t have to always fake a laugh or a smile instead of genuinely enjoying himself. Fuck, he wanted to get out of this!

The dinner and the beer vanished quickly but Dean still felt the gnawing pit in his stomach and he was sure it wouldn’t disappear until he and Cas were safe at home.

They relocated to the living room and the conversation changed course to lighter topics (for them, at least).

It was around ten that they decided to wrap it up for the night.

“Hope we can repeat this some other time,” Charlie smiled at them as they were getting to the door.

“Sure,” Dean smiled.

“If you need any help with anything, just ask,” Cas added. Dean threw an arm around his shoulders, itching to finally get out of here.

“Thanks,” Dorothy smiled – it seemed honest, but he wasn’t trusting that – and they were finally out the door.

Dean kept Cas close all the way across the road and up to their own house, senses on high alert, almost expecting an attack on their backs, but nothing happened.

As soon as their door was closed and locked (not that it would do much if it came to that) he turned to Cas with a panicked expression.

“This was scary,” he tried to whisper but he didn’t really manage it. “What the fuck are they doing here?”

“I know, I was…” Cas swallowed thickly which really wasn’t his thing and Dean noticed his hand was shaking lightly.

“Are you alright?” he asked, concern overshadowing anything else.

“Yeah,” Cas lied, taking a deep breath. “Not that they can kill me.”

“Cas, they’re literally one of the two things you have to fear,” he hissed.

“Hey, what happened?” Jack appeared in the hallway, already in pajamas. “Dinner went alright?” His brows knit together in a worried frown, mouth pressed into a thin line. “Are you okay? You both look… pale.”

“We’ll tell you immediately,” Dean looked at him with a shake of his head. “Where’s your sister?”

“Upstairs.” Cas answered him. His new range of hearing was still a bit creepy. “Can you get her down, please?”

“This is another family emergency,” Jack nodded with a solemn expression. It was not a question. “I’m on it.”

He disappeared up the stairs so Dean and Cas had maybe a minute to talk this over just the two of them.

“We can always move,” Dean admitted. “To Nebraska. Nobody would look for us in Nebraska. There’s nothing there.”

“Or Kansas,” Cas hummed and Dean shot him a look for the jab at his birth state. “Sorry. But we’re not gonna uproot our lives, Dean.”

“We can’t stay here if those two are right next door.”

“Those two probably don’t know they’re looking for me. We’re not even sure they’re looking for an angel. We’re not the only non-human race!”

“But they’re Women of Letters, apparently! Even if they’re not here for you, they can put the pieces together.”

“Not if we’re careful.”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself here, Cas?” Dean gestured between the two of them.

“I don’t know. Both?” his husband looked at the ceiling helplessly. Dean was pretty sure his wings would be twitching if visible.

“Okay, so we tell the kids what we know, forbid them to talk to Charlie or Dorothy and then we just…”

“Have sex,” Cas suggested.

Dean had opened his mouth to say something like calling Sam or Bobby or Lily but he closed it now.

“I like your logic, babe,” he told his husband, “but I was thinking more about damage control.”

“Well, we could do that after. Or tomorrow. I’m not gonna get kidnapped in the middle of the night, Dean.”

“Why would you get kidnapped?” Jack’s alarmed voice reached them.

“What did you do?” Claire followed him as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Dean crossed his arms.

“We didn’t do anything,” Cas guided them to the living room which was obviously their new place for talking about things. “One of our new neighbors is a Woman of Letters.”

“Probably the other, too.” Dean sighed. “And they’re so likeable.”

“Yeah, it would’ve been a great dinner,” Cas agreed, sinking into an armchair.

“Okay, dial back a bit,” Claire looked at them both in shock. “You sayin’ the queer couple across from us are here to hunt Dad?”

“We don’t know,” Cas frowned. “They’re part of a secret society who – according to a rumor – are collecting angels for whatever reason.”

“Great,” she almost growled in irritation. “Just great! So what? Now we have to move? Live like fugitives? Or will you just drop us at Uncle Sam’s again?”

“We don’t know,” Dean told her quietly.

“No, they can’t be here for Dad,” Jack spoke up in his usual subdued demeanor.

“What?” Claire turned to look at him.

“The house was sold before Dad started showing any angelic behavior,” Jack pointed out. “Lisa spoke with one of them before you went away, remember? That’s why they were planning the BBQ.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Huh,” Dean said. They had suspected it but it was good to have solid evidence that they’re safe at the moment.

“So they might be here for an angel –” Claire thought about it.

“But there’s no reason for them to suspect Dad, yes,” her brother nodded with a smile.

“Dorothy said she’s travelling all over the state. Maybe this is just their base,” Cas suggested.

“So we just have to keep a low profile then,” Dean hummed, some of the tension leaving him. “Be the friendly neighbors and not at all act like we’re on their wanted list. Cool. We can do that, right?”

“Sure,” Claire nodded. “And if they find out something, we can just kill them.”

“Nobody’s killing anybody,” Cas interrupted her thought process quickly.

“So we just act like we have all week, like nothing strange happened,” Jack summed up. His determined expression was so cute and Cas-like Dean melted a little inside.

“Yeah, pretty much,” he nodded. “Good plan.”

“Then I’m going to bed because there’s school tomorrow.”

He hugged everyone and walked out of the room with a wave and a smile.

“I’m going, too,” Claire went after him. “Don’t get kidnapped while I’m asleep!” she shouted from the stairs.

“Good night to you, too!” Dean yelled back then turned to his husband. “So what now?”

Cas’ answer was simple enough. He wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck and pulled him in for a searing kiss that took his breath away.

With a flap of wings Dean found himself in the bedroom, pressed against the wall next to their wardrobe.

“Whoa,” he gasped but he was already pretty okay with flying with Husband Airline. He only got a little wrong-footed when Cas was doing it without warning, like right now.

“Will you ride me?” Cas’ husky voice whispered in his ear before distracting kisses were pressed on his jawline and down his neck. Dean’s head thudded against the wall and he arched his back to get even closer, hooking a leg around Cas’ knee.

Cas’ crazy new sex drive was an amazing thing and not like their bedroom activities had been ever boring but now they reached another level of awesomeness. Dean was already planning to get away at the next opportunity to buy a new set of panties just to see how it would affect Cas.

“Yes, fuck, please, Cas,” he hissed wantonly as he grabbed onto the arch of a wing.

Cas’ hips thrust against him, already hard in his jeans and Dean tried to get enough space between them to get to the buttons of Cas’ shirt and the same time not wanting to let him pull away at all.

Their tongues danced around each other, teasing and playing. Cas’ hands sneaked under his undershirt, pinching a nipple and Dean made a sound between a yelp and a moan.

Cas took a reluctant step back and fumbled with his shirt, dark eyes never leaving Dean as his husband shrugged off his plaid and pulled his t-shirt over his head.

He only had a moment to glance at the white shirt opening to reveal Cas’ toned chest before the angel was back on him. The skin on skin contact was amazing, Dean let out a low moan and pulled him closer, their erections rubbing together through the layers of their jeans. Cas hissed and nipped on Dean’s lower lip, then started pulling him towards the bed.

They tumbled onto the sheets, a small laugh escaping Dean’s mouth as the landing broke their kiss. Cas’ own chuckle was cut off with a gasp when Dean sucked and bit on his collarbone, bruising the skin in a place where clothes would cover it.

The wings trapped under Cas’ back were twitching and flapping lightly, halves of both of them hanging off the bed. With the lack of natural light they seemed an oily pitch black color and Dean pushed a hand through the feathers closest to him.

The way Cas had to cover his mouth to muffle his shout of pleasure was very satisfying to watch and then Dean was pulled back into a heated kiss that left him without coherent thought.

Cas’ palm wandered lower and squeezed him through his jeans in a way that made Dean groan from deep in his chest and press into the touch but Cas was already busy with his belt. The fleeting graze of his knuckles was maddening and absolutely deliberate, his eyes glinting faintly in the light of the bedside lamp.

“You’re an asshole,” Dean gritted out.

Cas had the nerve to blink up at him innocently while his damn fingers were brushing lightly the length of Dean’s cock through his briefs.

“Then take them off,” he arched a brow, the barest twitch of his lips betraying his suppressed grin.

Dean pushed himself off him (not before pulling lightly on a feather that drew a strange hiccupping sound from his husband) and kneeled on the bed between Cas’ legs and pushed down his pants and boxers in one motion. It took a bit more maneuvering to get them off completely, Cas watching him with hooded eyes, a tip of his right wing lifted slightly and hovering close like it wanted to touch him. Dean leaned in to kiss the closest feather.

“Should I undress you, too, while I’m at it?” he asked cheekily, seeing that Cas hadn’t moved a muscle.

“If you insist.”

Dean rolled his eyes at the tone but went to work. He wasn’t about to be easy on Cas, though. He pressed wet kisses on Cas’ abdomen and nipped on his happy trail before undoing his jeans and yanking it down his legs. Cas’ shoes were still on so he had to fight with those, too, before he was successful. While he was occupied with that, Cas rummaged through the bedside drawer to grab the lube.

“Get back here,” Cas nudged him with his shin and Dean went easily as the angel pulled him back in for a kiss.

Cas pushed them up with his wings enough to get them out from under himself and turned them over without pulling away, many years of routine making it easy to pour lube on his fingers and kissing Dean stupid at the same time.

“Lift a leg for me,” he murmured between them, voice rough and deep, and Dean complied, his head tipping back on the pillow as he relaxed into the touch of the tip of Cas’ probing finger. It slid in easily, his lashes fluttering and heart hammering in his chest.

He hummed happily as Cas added another finger almost immediately, filling him and making his skin buzz.

“Love your hand,” he mumbled and moved back into the thrusts, feeling Cas’ blazing gaze on him the whole time. His hand slid over Cas’ back and up his neck into his hair, the other grabbing onto the sheets.

“I know.” He could feel Cas’ smile as his husband leaned down to kiss his shoulder.

It didn’t take much time until Dean felt ready for more, and Cas teasingly curled his fingers – now three – to make him see stars, before pulling out. He rolled off Dean and leaned against the headboard while he tried to scrap himself together enough to follow Cas and sit into his lap.

The blunt head of Cas’ cock against his entrance sent shivers all over his body and Cas’ drown out groan as Dean took him inside was accompanied by Dean’s hitching breath. Cas’ face was visibly red and his pupils blown wide, sweat running down his temple, feathers fluffed up. He was gorgeous and he filled Dean perfectly, the feeling of being complete making Dean’s head fuzzy.

It took a moment to adjust, but then he started to grind his hips down to test the waters and Cas’ grip tightened around his waist.

“Dean,” he clenched his jaw and Dean leaned in to kiss it.

“Mmm, so good, Cas,” he breathed out and rose a bit before lowering himself again.

He started moving with an easy, languid rhythm, pulling out moans from both of them. Dean pretty much lost himself in the feeling of being full and having Cas pliant and aroused inside him, his wings curling around Dean, the silky touch making his breath stutter.

Changing the angle Cas thrust up and Dean almost bit his tongue keep himself from shouting as bliss coursed through him and lit him up from the inside.

“Fuck, Cas, do that again, please,” he whimpered and Cas swore quietly before he started pounding into him wildly and Dean anchored himself with his arms around Cas’ shoulders, trying to meet him every time.

It took only minutes until he felt the familiar pressure in him building, ready to erupt and the heat consuming him from the inside.

“Castiel –” he pleaded, his voice little more than a whisper but Cas heard him anyway, pulling Dean impossibly close and taking him in his hand, jerking him off with tight, quick strokes.

Dean muffled his ecstatic scream against Cas’ lips as he came, his orgasm powerful and all-consuming and Cas followed him soon after, wings shuddering and the light flickering briefly.

“I love you,” Dean murmured into Cas’ sweaty neck when he felt like he could breathe again.

Cas nodded, still not clearheaded enough to answer with words.

It took a bit of coordination they didn’t really have to clean up and get themselves into a horizontal position, curled together under the covers. Dean clung to Cas heavily, the fear from earlier quenched but not vanished. The wing that wasn’t pulled tight against Cas’ back laid over him, warmer than any blanket. It was comforting beyond belief and he wouldn’t let anyone take that away from him.

He wasn’t exactly tired, but he was ready to doze off like this.

“I wanna try and help people,” Cas murmured quietly between them after a couple minutes of silence.

“Yeah? How?” Dean looked up at him questioningly.

“I don’t know yet,” Cas admitted. “But I have this power inside me and I want to use it for good.”

Dean thought about it for a moment. Cas always had too much heart and Dean loved him for it. He could understand the need to use his new abilities and make the world a better place but they had two of their supposed enemies right next door and that would just make it easier to get caught.

“Okay, aside from your horrible timing,” he sighed and turned a bit, head pillowed on Cas’ arm, “I think we can make it work. Nothing big or obvious, but we’ll find something.”

“Really?” Cas sounded a bit skeptical. “Just like that?”

“You know I’m with you hundred percent, babe,” Dean shrugged, fingers tracing patterns on Cas’ skin. “And I kinda understand it. As long as you know what you’re doing, I’m in.”

Cas nudged his chin up gently to kiss him again.

“I really don’t deserve you,” he muttered against Dean’s lips, his hand coming up to cup his jaw. “You’ve done so much for me in the last two weeks, Dean.”

“Nothing you haven’t or wouldn’t do for me,” Dean looked at him with a fond smile.

Because he knew Cas was about to argue that it wasn’t the same, Dean leaned up to silence him with a kiss.

The next day came way too soon for Dean’s taste and by ten he was in the garage, working on the Continental.

Some of the tension _had_ eased with the three rounds of spectacular sex last night and he was really glad for that. But he still felt on edge, his thoughts all over the place and he found himself leaning against a tire, sipping a bottle of water and absently turning a wrench between his fingers.

“You alright, chief?” he heard a gruff voice above his head and he looked up at Benny standing over him.

“Will Cas like this?” he blurted out. “I mean, not like we really need two cars. Why am I spending so much time on a pimp mobile when he maybe won’t even use it?” Because Cas had wings now, not like he would need fucking wheels to get somewhere when he could just flap to the other side of the planet. Giving him a present he wouldn’t need wasn’t something Dean wanted. Maybe he could think about something else altogether before he was out of time. He only had like… two months until their anniversary and Cas’ gifts were always awesome.

“What’s with that negativity, Dean?” Benny sat down beside him. Dean just shook his head, looking at the ground between his feet. “Look, we all know Cas loves his girl. One of the first things a newbie learns is that you don’t make fun of the boss’ car. He’s not gonna let you just pick it apart and tow it to the junkyard.”

“He’d take my head off,” Dean snorted in amusement.

“Your cher is a grumpy motherfucker but he can be really scary if he wants to be,” Benny admitted and now Dean laughed out loud, leaning his head against the fender.

“Yeah, sure can,” he agreed because it was completely true.

Cas was also a sentimental idiot. He wouldn’t let Dean damage his car. He wouldn’t flip out like Dean would if Baby got so much as a scratch, but he really wouldn’t be happy with Dean and that always had uncertain and tiring consequences (mostly paired with weeks – weeks! – without sex) until he got what he wanted.

“God, I love him so much,” he chuckled.

“And he loves you but that wouldn’t save you,” Benny shrugged and stood up, holding out a hand for Dean, too. “C’mon, brotha’, up you go.”

Dean let himself get pulled onto his feet and looked back down at the open hood.

“Paint should be in next week,” he said easily. “What do you think about navy?”

“Anything’s better than this,” Benny shook his head.

“True.” He turned back to his friend. “What’s up with the Bel Air?”

“New tires up now. Still working on the water pump.”

Before Dean could’ve nodded, Andy appeared from behind a car.

“Dean? You have to see this.”

 _This_ turned out to be the TV above the front desk. Every employee was cramped into the room and Dean, being taller than most of them, spotted Cas at the office door at the other end.

The news was running and Ash turned up the volume just as much as possible. Dean read the headline and froze.

_Dick Roman Missing_

“ _– It’s been a week since the authorities found Mr. Roman’s car in the desert a couple miles from Santa Clarita_ ,” the reporter said, standing before a tall glass building. “ _The CEO of Roman Enterprises didn’t appear on his afternoon meeting on Thursday two weeks ago but the authorities only got alerted on the weekend by Mr. Roman’s PA. His disappearance was kept under wraps until today. The Santa Clarita Police and Sheriff’s Department asked the involvement of the FBI and they’re searching the area where the vehicle was found, but they haven’t found anything about Mr. Roman’s current whereabouts. Roman Enterprises will hold a press conference this afternoon._ ”

Ash muted the TV and the noise was immediately back, everyone talking over each other. Dean cut his way through them to Cas who was a bit pale but otherwise didn’t show any sign of seeing his victim on the news. Dean hoped he looked the same.

“Okay?” he asked quietly, an arm sneaking around Cas’ waist.

Cas glanced at him and nodded.

“Maybe it was the boss,” someone said and Dean’s head snapped to the side.

“That’s ridiculous,” someone else spoke up.

“Roman was going after Cas, everybody knows that,” the first one – was that Cole? – rolled his eyes. “I would snap sooner or later.”

“He was a CEO, you dumbass,” Tracy Bell, the newest addition, fresh out of high school, scowled at him. “I think he had a couple other people to worry about.”

Dean sighed and pushed Ash’s chair to the side with him in it so he could stand right behind the desk.

“Okay, everyone!” he said loud enough to make the others quiet down. “First of all, I didn’t kill Dick Roman, but thanks for the vote of confidence,” he shot a look at Cole who didn’t seem apologetic at all. _No, just helped get rid of the body._ “Second, they said Roman’s missing. For all we know, he could be on his private island with one of his lady or gentleman friends.”

“And what? Just left one of his beauties in the sand?” Andy asked.

“Not that he ever appreciated them,” Benny scoffed. “He was never right in the head. Could be he finally went nuts and thought it a good idea to take a walk in the desert.”

“Great idea, Benny, thanks,” Dean sighed. “We’ll probably have the cops here anyway, just because Roman came here often, so if anyone have any… stuff, that they don’t want found, get rid of it as soon as possible.”

He glanced at Ash because the guy certainly wasn’t clean.

“Got it, boss,” he nodded back at Dean seriously.

“Alright, guys, back to work,” he waved easily. “You can talk about it over drinks after you earned your salary.”

There was a bit more grumbling but the crowd easily broke up and in a minute the typical, calming noise of the garage was picking up again. Ash rolled back to his computer and Dean stepped into the office after Cas, closing the door behind them.

“You okay, Cas?” he asked his husband.

“This is a shitty situation,” Cas leaned against his desk and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Not gonna argue with that,” Dean admitted.

“I’m sorry about this,” Cas looked up at him. “I still don’t feel regret about what I did, but I’m sorry it led to this.”

“We got out of trickier situations than this, babe,” Dean forced a smile onto his face.

“Like what?” Cas looked at him with exasperation,

“Remember when Claire shoplifted?”

“She was six, Dean,” his husband rolled his eyes but a smile was already curling at his lips.

“She put everything in Jack’s pockets because she knew they would totally believe he didn’t know it was forbidden to just pick anything you like and take it home without paying, except the CCTV got her.”

“She’s a villain in the making,” Cas agreed fondly. “What’s your point?”

“If we could talk ourselves out of that, the FBI will be child’s play.”

Cas chuckled and took the two steps between them to hug Dean tightly.

“I love you,” he muttered into Dean’s shoulder.

“Me, too, sunshine,” Dean kissed his neck in response.

They had two Women of Letters right next door and the feds were looking for the guy Cas had killed, but somehow Dean still felt like they could pull through this. He really hoped he was right.


	2. Unprompted visitors

Waking up from his afternoon nap on his day off to someone banging on the front door was not something Dean liked. He wrenched it open, ready to kill whoever was on the other side with his glare alone.

“We have to talk,” Victor barreled in beside him, Dean never even having the opportunity to protest. But Victor seemed determined and Dean knew he could get rid of him quicker if he just heard him out.

“What’s up, man?” he asked as he closed the door, yawning wide for good measure to make the point across.

“You heard of Roman, right?” Vic turned to him, not taking a step farther into the house.

Dean’s heart skipped a beat.

“Yeah,” he answered carefully. Roman had been declared missing two weeks ago. Dean was almost hoping that was it for them, that they missed Roman’s trips to the garage, but now here Victor was, talking about it.

“Okay, so the office works on it with the feds. You’re on their list of suspects.”

“Me?” Dean asked incredulously. How had they come to that conclusion? He doubted Roman had told anyone about his obsession with Cas.

“Well, your garage. Not that I understand it, they didn’t tell me that much. They mostly finished investigating the biggest rivals so they’re going onto less probable suspects. They should turn up in your yard at some point this week, after they wrapped it up with that Crowley guy.”

That was nothing they hadn’t expected. They had talked about it, what they would say or do when the feds would come knocking.

Still, Victor here was probably risking his job, warning him about it.

“Thank you, Vic,” he said honestly.

“You’re good men, Dean, both of you. I’m sure you have nothing to do with it,” Victor waved it away and Dean’s stomach churned with guilt.

“So they haven’t found anything?” he asked easily.

“Nothing major that I know of,” the cop shrugged. “I have to go now, though. Shouldn’t really talk to you at all until you’re cleared. You can pay me back in beer when this all blows over.”

“You got it,” Dean nodded seriously. Damn, he wouldn’t be able to sleep after this.

As Victor opened the front door again to leave, he almost bumped into Charlie. She looked just as surprised, fist lifted in the air like she was just about to knock.

“Hey, Charlie,” Victor nodded at her as he tried to step out beside her onto the porch.

“Hi, guys,” she nodded, her trademark sunny smile nowhere to be seen. “Dean, I need your help,” she took Vic’s place.

“Well, good luck,” Victor added, frowning a bit at her serious tone. “Bye, Dean.”

“Bye, Vic. Thanks again,” Dean waved after him.

Charlie waited until they were alone, not very subtly following Victor with her gaze until he was out of sight, then turned to Dean. She was surprisingly pale and she looked worried.

“What happened, Charlie?” Dean asked.

He couldn’t _not_ like Charlie, despite his best efforts. He hated it, because she was almost certainly a Woman of Letters and her very presence was a danger to Cas and their family. In any other circumstances they probably would’ve gotten along great.

In the last weeks they had met up a couple times, mostly Cas insisting that it would be suspicious if they didn’t. Dorothy wasn’t always there which was kind of a relief. They didn’t let Charlie near Claire and Jack, though.

“Dorothy’s in danger and I need your help,” Charlie said now, her lips trembling but her voice steady.

That really wasn’t what Dean had expected to hear.

“What?” he asked incredulously.

“I promise you I explain everything on the way but I don’t trust anyone other than you and please help me.”

Fuck, that sounded ominous and could even be a trap. But Charlie was either a terrific actress or, what sounded more plausible to Dean, she was really worried and Dorothy was actually in danger. Which was a brand new moral problem.

Charlie was looking at him with an almost pleading expression, her eyes filled with unshed tears.

Damn it.

“Let me change and we can leave in five,” he sighed.

Charlie threw herself into his arms, hugging him with more force than Dean would’ve thought her capable of.

“Thank you,” she muttered into his chest. He hugged her back hesitantly. “Meet you outside?”

“Sure, kiddo,” he nodded.

She let him go and darted out the door. Dean hurried upstairs to the master bedroom, praying Cas on the way.

_I pray to Castiel, who art probably busy with our financial database, to listen up. Charlie said that Dorothy was in danger and she asked for my help. You copy, babe?_

He just reached the wardrobe when his phone buzzed in his pocket.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Dean answered it as he picked out a fresh pair of jeans and a clean flannel shirt.

“You think she says the truth?” his husband asked, not bothering with a greeting.

“Yeah,” Dean admitted. “I’m pretty sure.”

“And you want to help,” Cas said and Dean could almost see his worried frown. “Dean, she was probably hunting something, you know that, right? I don’t want you to endanger yourself.”

“Well, me neither, Cas, but then what? Should I let Charlie go alone? Let Dorothy die or something?”

“Of course not!” Cas sounded indignant. “But I want you near something that could hurt her even less. I could go in your place.”

“Cas, you remember what happened last time, right?” Dean reminded him. “You losing control now would be even more compromising with them right there.”

“But –”

“I can pray if we need your help, alright? You can be there in a second. I don’t want you to risk yourself if it’s not necessary, okay?”

Cas huffed – it was that sound he always made when he knew Dean was right but he didn’t like it.

“At least take your gun with you. You have it for a reason.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong. Benefit of being the son of a Marine. Not that it would do much good if he was about to face something unnatural but he would feel safer with it nonetheless.

Fully clothes and now with his Colt checked and tucked safely into his belt, he made his way back down.

“Gotta go now,” he said to Cas.

“Be careful,” his husband warned him. “And pray to me.”

“You got it, babe. Love you,” he smiled without meaning to.

“I love you, too,” Cas sighed before the line went dead.

Dean got his wallet and keys, then was out the door. Charlie was already waiting with her small yellow car parking next to the sidewalk, tapping impatiently on the wheel. Guess they’re not using Baby. Dean frowned at the thought.

As soon as the door of the passenger side closed behind Dean, Charlie pressed on the gas and they lurched forward.

Dean waited all of two minutes until he spoke up.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“Fort Tejon State Historic Park,” Charlie answered.

That wasn’t that far away, straight up north on I-5.

“What happened, Charlie?”

She bit her lip and tightened her grip around the wheel.

“Okay, I’m telling you something that will sound crazy but I need you to believe me.” She took a deep breath. “Dorothy and I are part of a secret organization, the Men of Letters. We’re mostly just hording information on supernatural lore but sometimes hunt monsters if the need arises.”

Dean hoped his face wasn’t telling her anything. He was glad for doing this in the car, Charlie couldn’t look at him for longer than a moment. There was an idea forming in his head that would require a lot less lying.

“What?” he asked.

“There are more to this world then you could imagine,” she started to explain. “There are things out there that –”

“You are hunters?” he interrupted Charlie with as much shock as he could manage.

That earned him a whole two-seconds look.

“You know?” she asked, her surprise completely honest.

“About the monsters? Yeah,” he nodded. “Haven’t met any personally, but I’ve heard of them.”

Charlie didn’t ask how. She just seemed relieved.

“That makes it so much easier, dude,” she exhaled, a small smile curling her lips, the first one Dean’d seen today.

“So what’s up with those Letters Guys?”

“Men of Letters,” Charlie corrected him. “It’s this whole-ass international thing like the Freemasonry. They have a couple of their men stationed in all states. We got sent here to California. Dorothy’s hunting all over the place.”

“What was she hunting now?” Dean asked, fidgeting with his ring. He always did that when he was nervous and Cas wasn’t in his sight.

“A couple missing hikers. She was thinking it was probably a ghost or a djinn.”

“And you think she was wrong?”

“I just know it’s not easy to get the jump on her,” she shook her head lightly, her lips pressed into a thin line. “She called me maybe an hour ago. She was scared, Dean, and Dorothy just doesn’t get scared.”

Something still wasn’t clicking to Dean about this whole thing.

“Why didn’t you asked your bosses to send someone? I’m not a hunter, Charlie. I’m pretty much the definition of a suburban dad.”

“There’s nobody close enough,” she admitted with a frown. “I thought you would be ready to help me and as your father was a marine and you have a registered firearm you are the best option I have.”

“How the hell do you know that?” he asked, feeling a little violated and scared. If Charlie knew about that, what did she know about Cas?

“I had to check up on everyone in the neighborhood before we could move in there. It was just a light screening. You came out clean.”

“I sure hope so,” he grumbled to himself.

“I know it’s a lot to ask, Dean, but I really hope you would help me.”

Dean sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Not like he could just get out of this now. And if it was Cas who was in trouble, he somehow knew that Charlie would be ready to assist in any way she could.

“Of course I’ll help,” he said. “Can’t promise I’ll be of much use but I’ll help.”

“Thank you,” Charlie smiled at him.

“But if I die, Cas will kill me,” he joked to lighten the mood. It worked, because she snickered slightly.

The rest of the ride was spent mostly in silence. Dean tried to call Sam just to check up on him, but his brother didn’t pick up. They hadn’t spoken in almost a week, just the rare text here and there. Dean had a hunch that Sam was up to something but he couldn’t guess what that something could be. The midnight calls about and to Cas had completely dried up and that meant that Sam had found something more interesting than an angelic brother-in-law. At least Dean hoped it would be a girl and not something potentially more dangerous.

He also shot a quick prayer to Cas to tell him every bit of new information he got out of Charlie. He got a text as a response, only saying, _We’ll talk about it at home. Stay safe_ , and a couple emojis as per usual.

They arrived at the park’s parking lot maybe half an hour later. There weren’t many cars, the day being a Tuesday, but Dorothy’s red bike was there, the chrome glinting in the sunlight.

“Okay, we need to walk three miles or so. Dorothy gave me her coordinates,” Charlie said as they got out. She walked over to the trunk and looked around shiftily before opening it.

There was a complete arsenal in there. It was a morbid mix of knives and guns and amulets.

“This is way too creepy, Charlie. You know Vic’s a cop, right?”

“He would need a warrant and I would know about that before the ink’s dry on it,” she shrugged. “We should need silver bullets and salt for a start. I’ll take a stake coated in lamb’s blood to be safe if it’s a djinn.”

The hike wasn’t that long but Dean still started sweating after a while. He wasn’t Cas, his workout consisted mostly of sex and tinkering with cars. The sun high in the sky and the extra weight of the weapons didn’t help. Dean had his own gun, a shotgun filled with rock salt (against ghosts and demons, he remembered from Bobby’s lecture) and a silver knife. He’s never been this armed before.

His father had let them find themselves through hobbies, had bought Sam’s first law book when the kid was twelve, payed for Dean’s piano lessons and any trophy or award they had gotten in school had went on a shelf in the living room. The only thing John Winchester had been adamant about his sons learning had been how to handle weapons.

Dean’d never thought he would actually need the skill in real life beside letting out steam, but here he was, going against something supernatural.

Charlie led them up and over the grassy dunes and only stopped maybe three miles in, following the coordinates on her phone. The sparse trees and bushes got more numerous and their shade was a reprieve from the scorching sun. That was when they spotted the house.

It was a really old building, a two-story wooden farmhouse almost half-collapsed on itself, most of the boards in the porch missing, the roof caved in on one place, the probably originally white paint dirty enough to look an ugly brownish gray. It was probably a century old. There was no vehicle or any hiking trail within sight.

“This is it, right?” Dean asked with a knot in his stomach. He really didn’t like this.

“Couldn’t really be anything else,” Charlie nodded, pocketing her cell. “Monsters like abandoned places. Now we have to find Dorothy.”

Dean kept the shotgun at the ready as they neared the house, the dread only growing inside him with every step.

“I’m gonna go check the first floor and the basement,” Charlie whispered as they reached the front door, the creaking wood under their feet making Dean flinch. “You can check upstairs. If you find anyone don’t let them touch you.”

Dean wanted to ask how stupid she thought he was but kept his mouth shut. About that, anyway.

“Shouldn’t we stay together?” he hissed instead.

“Faster that way,” she shook her head. “You shout and I’ll be there as quick as I can. I won’t let you die, Dean.”

Dean wanted to argue further, but didn’t see the point, so he just made a tense motion with his head that should suffice as a nod. Charlie went inside first, the squeaking of the door hinges way too loud in the quiet of the house. Way too quiet but that was probably just the paranoia speaking. There was no one on the other side, no creature with fangs or glowing eyes throwing itself at them. Thank God for small miracles.

They stepped into what had probably been the living room, the furniture either turned over, half-rotten or both. There was a doorway to what was most likely the kitchen and straight ahead a door leading outside. The stairs were on their left and Charlie gestured at it before walking farther inside.

The stairs weren’t in a much better state than anything else in the house, the railing bending over the room in a dangerous angle. Dean was just wishing that the steps wouldn’t give under him as he sneaked upstairs, the creaking way too loud for his liking.

He reached the upstairs landing without anything attacking him, but he saw nothing that could’ve hinted at Dorothy’s whereabouts except the couple footprints in the dust, but those could’ve belonged to anyone with boots. There were three doors he could see, but the only one closed was the one at the end of the hallway.

“Dad!”

The voice made his blood run cold. It was impossible, how could…

“Dad!” Jack called out again. “Help me, please!”

The fear in his tone, close to sobbing overrode everything else in Dean’s mind. His son was somehow here and he was terrified.

Fuck being careful! Dean ran to the closed door and practically tumbled inside the room in his haste to open it.

The hit shouldn’t have been a surprise, but before he could even look around, he found himself on the ground with all the air leaving his lungs with a pained huff.

“Dean!” he faintly heard Charlie from the first floor and a muffled sound from somewhere on his left, but there was a crowbar straight over him, ready to bash his head in.

His instincts kicked in at the last moment, rolling away and floundering upright, backing away.

The woman snarling at him was middle-aged with messy brown hair and a feral expression, her clothes dirty and tattered. The room was a mess, the sun lighting up everything through the enormous hole in the roof. There was dust and filth, a swarm of flies buzzing in the air.

Dorothy was bound on the other side of the room, a ratty cloth in her mouth, blood on her face, eyes wide as they met Dean’s. There was no trace of Jack.

The woman with the rusty crowbar – didn’t look like a djinn and hella sure wasn’t a ghost either – charged again and Dean ducked with a shout. He’d lost the shotgun but he grabbed the silver knife from his belt quickly, slashing out with less grace than he wanted to. He got her arm but it didn’t seem to deter her. It seemed to just make her angry, her rotted teeth getting replaced by sharp, needle-like fangs.

“Hey!” Charlie appeared at her back.

It was enough to get the woman’s – monster’s – attention. She whirled around just to get a knife somewhere in her abdomen but that didn’t work either. She got Charlie by the throat before Dean could even move and slammed her to the ground.

“Dean!” Charlie choked out. “Aim at her spine!”

Dean pulled out his gun and shot her in the middle of the back. Twice.

The monster collapsed like a sack of potatoes, right on Charlie who threw the corpse off with a grunt. Dean just stood there, looking at it, trying to understand what he’d done.

He’d killed it. He’d killed _her_.

“Hey, Dean!” Charlie shook him by the shoulders. “Man, it’s okay. It’s okay, we’re all okay.”

“What?” Dean looked at her, the words a little muffled by the ringing in his ears.

“Let’s untie Dorothy and get out of here,” Charlie suggested, her tone gentler. “We’ll talk about it when we’re on our way.”

Aside from her head wound Dorothy seemed alright, if a little pissed at herself for getting caught. It didn’t stop her smile when Charlie hugged her tightly and to nod towards Dean gratefully after they helped her up.

“What the fuck was that?” Dean asked only after they stumbled downstairs and out onto the grass.

“A crocotta,” Charlie said in distaste. “A very wild one.”

“It’s a monster that lures in their victims by a loved one’s voice and devours their soul,” Dorothy explained.

“Yeah. It used Dorothy’s cell to bring us here.”

“So Jack’s not –” Dean swallowed thickly, the echo of the desperation he’d felt still burning his throat.

“He’s at home and perfectly safe,” Charlie’s face was soft as she looked at him.

The hike back to the entrance of the park was long as Charlie told Dorothy their part of the story. The hunter wasn’t happy with her involving a civilian but couldn’t argue with her bringing the closest she’d found to reinforcement.

The pain crept up on Dean as the adrenaline wore off. His shoulder was aching from his landing on the floor and his ankle throbbed from where he’d tried to stood up. It hadn’t been even a real fight and he still felt beaten up. He was way out of practice, he had handled way more when Jo had started a bar brawl at their graduation party. Hell, Charlie almost got her soul sucked out but she seemed pretty fine.

And he killed a monster.

_Not a person. Not a woman. A monster who tried to kill us._

The cut on Dorothy’s scalp was treated as soon as they reached the car. At least Dean felt useful while doing it, the experience of raising two accident-prone kids coming in handy.

“I don’t think it’s severe but you should check it out with a doctor for a concussion,” he told her when he was finished, packing up the first aid kit Charlie had fished out from under the front seat.

“Thanks,” Dorothy muttered, touching the gauze gingerly and handing Dean the water bottle they used to clean the blood away. He took a couple big gulp from the warm liquid before giving it back to her.

“A Men of Letters unit is half an hour out,” Charlie put away her phone. “We should wait for them.”

“Why?” Dean asked. He just wanted to get home, back to Cas, Claire and Jack.

“I don’t like it either but that’s the protocol. Sorry, Dean,” she grimaced but then brightened up again. “But hey, now we can get a coffee and ask you openly about that thing.”

“That thing?” he asked suspiciously.

Instead of answering, Charlie grabbed her girlfriend’s hand and waved her other arm around Dean’s, pulling both of them at the little restaurant next to the parking lot.

They piled into a booth at the back, Dean on one side and the girls on the other. They waited until they got their coffees and a small bowl of peanuts before Charlie launched into it.

“You’ve been living in Santa Clarita longer than us,” she started. “You noticed anything weird with our neighbors in the last month or so?”

“Whatcha mean by weird?” Dean looked between the two of them, anxiety making the already black coffee even more bitter in his mouth.

“There was a big power outage a couple weeks back. It was in the middle of the day so not many noticed it but we get notified of things like that.” Dean’s heart dropped into his stomach. “It was just before we moved in.”

“And?”

“We have to look into these kind of anomalies,” Dorothy continued. “The only known creatures that could overcharge a whole town like that are angels.”

“Angels?” Dean asked back. Shit! Cas had caused a black-out when he’d killed Roman and they hadn’t even noticed it!

“Yeah, they’re real and unfortunately very powerful,” Charlie said. “They’re normal humans until they’re not and the transformation is hard to handle. They can hurt anyone without meaning to so the Men of Letters try to get to them before that could happen.”

“The profile we have on them says they’re mostly antisocial or awkward with few friends and don’t blend in easily,” Dorothy leaned back in her seat. “We are trying to find them, if it’s really an angel in the first place. They’re dangerous if they don’t learn to control their powers.”

“You already suspect anyone?” Dean sipped his drink just so he wouldn’t have to look at them. They wouldn’t involve him in this if Cas was on their list, surely.

“Gordon Walker is Number One at the moment,” Charlie shrugged. Dean almost spat out his coffee.

“Gordon?” he asked in disbelief. “An angel?”

“He fits in the picture. Nobody likes him and he’s mostly keeping to himself.”

Cas would find this hilarious.

“The other one is the Tran-boy,” Dorothy frowned. “But it’s less plausible.”

“Kevin? No way!” Dean protected him immediately. “Kid’s a genius, I don’t think those have many friends. And he loves his mom so much, I mean, how many seventeen years old would buy flowers for his mom every other week?”

“Dean, don’t fret,” Charlie grabbed his flailing hand over the table. “We don’t think it’s Kevin but we can’t really rule it out just yet. That’s why we’re asking you. Have you spotted anything strange? Someone not eating on some gathering? Lights up all night somewhere? Being there one second and gone the next?”

“No. Sorry,” Dean said, the lie rolling off easily. He liked them, really, but he didn’t trust them with Cas. He didn’t really trust anyone with Cas, but Charlie and Dorothy were on top of his list. “But I’ll keep an eye out from now on.”

“Okay,” Charlie nodded, smiling at him. “Thanks.”

The MoL squad rolled in just a couple minutes later in a black SUV. The girls asked him to stay – Charlie could get in trouble for bringing him along for a hunt – and left to greet their colleagues.

The door hardly closed behind them and Dean was already dialing.

“Are you alright?” Cas picked up after the first ring. He’d been probably glaring at his phone with his smite-y squint since their last text. “You didn’t pray so –”

“They’re searching for an angel,” Dean interrupted him, eyes trained on the parking lot. “They think it’s Gordon, you’re not even close to their mind, I don’t think, but they know there’s an angel close to home somewhere.”

“Walker?” Cas scoffed in displeasure and Dean could imagine how his nose scrunched up like always when he was offended. “They think it’s _him_?”

“They’re working according to a profile the Men of Letters put together. It’s a bit screwed, at least it doesn’t fit you. Turns out having a family and friends is a great alibi nowadays.”

“Alright,” Cas sighed. “We’ll discuss this more in person. So how are you, Dean? Dorothy’s safe?”

“Little beaten up and tired but alright, all of us. Wish I could be home already.”

“I could fly you home but I think that would be noticeable.”

“Yeah, you’re right there, honey,” he agreed. “I’m hanging up now, they’re coming back. I think I’ll be home in an hour or so.”

“Take care, beloved,” Cas murmured and the line went dead.

“Ready to go,” Charlie reached their table and threw down a couple bills to cover their orders. Dean didn’t even put up a fight about it.

He got the backseat (first time in years if not decades), Charlie behind the wheel. Dorothy’s bike would be collected and delivered by the unit who was currently getting rid of every evidence they could’ve left behind.

The ride home was spent listening to the radio, a modern station Dean would normally scoff at. Dorothy was just looking out the window with, blinking slowly at the sunset, Charlie not letting her sleep with the occasional poke to her side.

Dean was okay, for the most part, utterly and completely drained, mostly emotionally, but alright. He felt a little bit of life returning to him when they turned into their street and then Charlie stopped the engine in front of her and Dorothy’s garage.

When he pulled himself out from the backseat, he looked over at his own home. Cas was waiting on the porch, back stiff and hands in his pockets. Dean wasn’t yet close enough to see his face but he would bet he was frowning heavily.

“Hey, Dean,” Charlie stepped up to him and hugged him tightly around the waist. Dean’s shoulder twitched in pain as he hugged her back. “Thank you,” she murmured into his chest.

Dean pressed a kiss on her hair like he’d done with Claire countless times.

“Sure,” he sighed. Dorothy nodded at him gratefully. Dean nodded back, then extracted himself from Charlie’s grip and with a last, tired smile shot in their direction, he walked (limped) across the street.

“Dean,” Cas’ voice was full of worry as Dean practically stumbled into his waiting arms. He could finally let go completely, secure in the knowledge that his husband could keep him upright without problem. The familiar scent of his aftershave was still strong where Dean pressed his nose into his neck.

“Cas,” he murmured, eyes closing and a little sigh of pure relief escaping him.

“I’ve got you,” Cas rumbled into his ear and changed stance to more or less drag him inside. As soon as the door was closed behind them, his palm cradled Dean’s jaw and the sliver of grace coursing through Dean’s body felt magnificent.

“Oh,” he exhaled, the pain subsiding, the cool sensation quieting his brain and making him sleepy – not one from exhaustion like the one he’d felt all the way home, but the comfortable-and-content kind.

“You’re awesome,” he smiled like an idiot.

Cas looked at him fondly and gave him a chaste kiss.

“Come on,” he took Dean’s hand in his and pulled him into the living room.

Jack was puttering with something in the kitchen and Claire was setting up Netflix, blankets and pillows piled on the couch. They were both already in their pajamas, Claire’s hair in a loose braid.

“Hey, Dad!” she greeted him.

Jack turned his head to grin at him brightly before going back to work. Damn, was it good to see him safe and healthy.

“Movie night?” Dean asked, a warm feeling unfurling in his stomach.

They hadn’t had one of those in ages, not with how busy and strange their lives had become. It was such an affectionate gesture that his family had done for him, simply because he had a rough afternoon.

“Thought you would appreciate it,” Cas said quietly beside him.

“I really do,” Dean admitted with a soft smile tugging at his lips.

“Then go change so we can begin,” Claire rolled her eyes at him.

Dean went without a word, tugging Cas upstairs by his hand. After he showered quickly, getting rid of the dust and horror, he changed into his favorite hot dog pajama pants and a shirt. Cas was already waiting for him when he came out of the bathroom.

They decided on Star Wars, which was great. They were all sitting on the sofa cuddled together, which was even better. Dean had a bowl of popcorn in his lap, Jack leaning on him from one side, Cas from the other, his husband pulling their daughter close with minimal grumbling from her. It was kinda perfect.

“I wanna bring Kaia over sometime,” Claire spoke up around the middle of the movie.

Dean looked away from Leia and Han’s bickering. Claire seemed flushed even in the low lighting and she was careful to not glance at anyone.

“Of course,” he said easily, trying to be casual about it because anything else would just make her uncomfortable.

“We’re happy to have her whenever,” Cas agreed.

“Awesome,” she murmured, her eyes never leaving the screen.

They left it at that.

That night Dean felt happier and more relaxed than he had in a while, especially after the day he’d had. Spending time with his family usually did that for him and he was so grateful for all of them for this. He knew damn well that his kids, particularly Claire, were getting more and more independent by the day and he treasured every moment he could spend with them.

“Almost forgot,” he said to Cas as they were getting ready to bed. “Vic was here earlier. Feds will probably turn up at the garage this week.”

Cas spat out the toothpaste before answering.

“Nice of him to warn us.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, getting under the covers.

Cas joined him soon, plugging his phone in the charger before snuggling up to Dean, preparing for his non-sleep. He would probably get up in an hour or so after Dean drifted off, but for now his body was warm and soft under Dean’s hand.

“It’ll be alright, Dean.” Cas looked at him with a frown. “We’ve talked about it. As Sam advised, we should stick to the truth as much as we can.”

“Those big blue eyes of yours will probably help,” Dean sighed. “I just hope we can get this over with soon. Waiting for the FBI to turn up on your doorstep is stressful.”

They did turn up on Friday morning. Dean was busy trying to reason with Ash about not greeting their clients half-naked when they arrived. Big black car, followed by a cop car with Victor behind the wheel. The noise inside subsided considerably.

“Dean,” he greeted him when he got out, his eyes narrowed in warning.

“Vic,” Dean was sure he sounded surprised enough. “What’s going on?”

“These guys are with the FBI. They’re on the Roman case.”

That was all the time they had before Vic’s partner and the two agents reached them.

“Mr. Dean Winchester?” one of them asked. Both of them were clean-shaven and wore suits, of course, badge flashing in their hands.

“Yeah,” Dean frowned at them.

“I’m Agent Morris and this is my partner, Agent Valente.” He had dark hair and brown eyes and a serious expression that seemed pretty permanent even at first glance. His partner was younger and blond, glancing curiously inside the garage where Dean was sure everyone was trying to listen in. He shook both their hands. “We’d like to talk to you and your employees about the disappearance of Richard Roman.”

Dean’s frown deepened.

“Why?” he asked.

“According to his calendar, he came here more than was strictly required of him,” Morris said. “If you don’t mind, we’d question you and your husband in a place where we won’t be disturbed. Meanwhile Officers Henriksen and Reidy will do the same with the others.”

“Can’t exactly say no, can I?” Dean crossed his arms over his chest. “Sure. Come with me.”

He stopped by Benny who was already waiting by the door.

“Benny, the officers will ask everyone about Roman. Can you handle it?”

“Sure thing, chief,” his friend agreed so Dean led the agents to the office, really hoping Cole wouldn’t say anything incriminating.

“Cas, sweetheart,” he stepped inside, the two men on his heels. “These two agents from the FBI would like to ask a few questions about Roman while the cops do the same for the guys outside.”

Cas frowned and stood up to come out from behind his desk like he hadn’t heard the whole conversation they’d had outside.

“Mr. Winchester,” Morris held out a hand for Cas to shake and introduced both of them again.

“Nice to meet you,” Cas nodded at them. “What can we do for you, agents?”

“Please, sit down, Mr. Winchester,” Valente gestured at the couch and waited until both Dean and Cas obeyed. Neither of them were trying to be intimidating, casually leaning against Dean’s desk. “There will only be a couple things we’d like to know. This is more of a routine questioning than anything.”

“We just want to tie up the loose ends at this point,” Morris added.

“Okay,” Cas squinted at them.

Valente pulled out a notepad and a pen from the inner pocket of his jacket.

“How long have you been running this business?” he started.

“Five years or so,” Dean answered. “When we moved out here to Santa Clarita.”

“You’ve got popular pretty fast,” Morris arched a brow at them. “You have clients from all over the state.”

“Dean’s a very capable mechanic with a charming personality,” Cas leaned back. “He handles every car trusted in his care respectfully and our clients know that.”

“Flatterer,” Dean smiled at him. “We wouldn’t be here without you handling everything else that doesn’t have to do with the actual cars.”

He couldn’t look away from Cas’ fond expression until Morris cleared his throat.

“Mr. Roman was one of your regulars, am I right?” he asked.

“We have a lot of wealthy customers,” Cas admitted.

“Most can’t afford the kind of classics we’re specialized in,” Dean shrugged. “The parts are rare to find and the skills and expertise we have are worth a pretty penny for a lot of people who love their cars. Roman had a bunch of those.”

“When was the first time Mr. Roman came here?” Valente asked.

“Last year,” Dean said easily. “It was a red ’69 Cadillac DeVille.”

“I can check the exact date in our database, if you’d like,” Cas offered.

“Thank you, Mr. Winchester, but I don’t think it’s necessary,” Morris waved it away. Dean took it as a good sign. “According to Mr. Roman’s calendar, he came here at least six times in the last eight months. Now, he was an influential businessman, not the kind of guy to take time out of his schedule to deal with trivial things like this, he had men for that. What do you think is the reason he was personally here every time?”

Dean snorted, his hands balling into fists as his gaze wandered to the wall. Even with Roman dead for weeks, Dean still felt his blood boiling with anger at thinking about that douchebag trying to hook up with Cas.

“I’m afraid it was me,” Cas said it out loud as he put his hand on Dean’s thigh in a calming gesture.

“I’m sorry?” Valente blinked in surprise.

“After our first meeting Mr. Roman was quite taken with me and didn’t try to keep it a secret,” he told them nonchalantly.

“And how did you felt about his… attention, Mr. Winchester?”

“In the beginning flattered, of course,” Cas shrugged. “But I wasn’t interested and his continuous disregard of that made me uncomfortable after a short while.”

“You never even considered the option?” Morris asked.

Cas’ expression turned to stone and his voice became colder than the arctic wind. Fortunately, his eyes didn’t even flash with grace.

“My sex life is fulfilling, thank you. Dean can take care of my every need,” he said bluntly. Valente coughed awkwardly and Dean tried really hard to hide his grin as he took Cas’ hand to press a kiss on his knuckles. “I’m not gonna rip apart my marriage for a… a ‘fling’, agent. I love Dean with my whole heart and I’m perfectly happy with where I am in life.”

The agents shared a glance but let it rest.

“Alright. And what did _you_ think about it, Mr. Winchester?” Morris turned to Dean. “Were you jealous? Angry?”

“Jealous? No. Angry? Yes,” Dean answered honestly. “It was obvious to everyone Cas wasn’t interested and Roman completely ignored that. I wasn’t happy about it.”

“You never felt the urge to protect Castiel from that?” Valente tried to goad him. “Never wanted to just… make this problem disappear?”

“I’m hot-headed but I’m not stupid,” Dean scoffed. “Yeah, I was pissed that Roman couldn’t take no for an answer, but I wouldn’t have killed him for it. Imagined strangling him a couple times, sure, but it was more therapeutic than seriously considering it.”

“We’ve never mentioned that Mr. Roman is dead, Mr. Winchester,” Morris looked at him with a frown. “He’s still considered missing.”

Dean’s blood ran cold. Fuck.

Cas squeezed his thigh discreetly before he could tense up, though.

“You’ve talked about him in past tense,” he tilted his head like a bird. “I figured his status has changed, I’m sure Dean presumed the same.”

God, Dean had married a genius.

The feds still looked a bit suspicious but by some miracle seemed to accept that explanation. They couldn’t exactly deny it, at least, because Cas was right.

It was over pretty quickly after that. There were still a couple questions about their employees and their non-existent secret agendas against Roman, but mostly that was it. Vic was still talking to Ash when they left the office, but he was the last one. Dean found their efficiency almost shocking.

“Thank you for your help, Mr. and Mr. Winchester,” Morris said as they shook hands again.

“Of course, Agents,” Cas nodded easily.

“Hey, boss!” Andy yelled from the garage. “Could use a little help here!”

Dean left them with a lazy wave to Victor and a kiss on Cas’ cheek, confident that his husband wouldn’t bust them now.

“What’s up?” he crutched down to where Andy was lying on a roller board next to a ’79 Ford Bronco.

Much later, after driving Cas to the hospital for his weekend training for volunteers and he parked the Impala on the driveway, he found Sam’s car already waiting next to the sidewalk. His brother was already inside, sitting at the dinner table with Claire and Jack, leaning over textbooks. He was still in his suit so he’d probably come straight from the firm.

“We talked about it, guys,” Dean drawled out as he neared them. “Don’t let strangers into the house.”

“Jerk,” Sam rolled his eyes and stood up to hug him.

“Bitch,” Dean muttered back. “Good to see your ugly mug.”

Sam looked like he hadn’t slept since Dean had last seen him. His hair was a bit messy and dark shadows were under his eyes.

“Where’s Cas?” he asked, looking around like Cas would just pop out of thin air – the fact that Cas could actually do that didn’t really count.

“Training at the hospital,” Dean said. “Wants to help people and volunteering there is the easiest way to do it inconspicuously.”

“Great idea,” Sam agreed. “When’s he getting home?”

“Around seven. Why?” Dean frowned.

“I have something for him,” Sam walked to his case and opened it to pull out a file and a thick, old tome. Of course, Jack and Claire had given up on doing their homework at the first opportunity of seeing something more interesting. “I’m sorry I didn’t call but I was getting into this deep and I didn’t want to say anything until I found something and then I left town for a couple days to get this book.”

“What’s that?” Jack asked with the curiosity of an eight-year-old. Claire had the expression of mild boredom, but her eyes were bright as she stared at her uncle.

Sam looked straight at Dean when he answered, voice deadly serious.

“I was looking into where angels can come from. And I found something.”


End file.
